Vaermina's Playtime
by reikat
Summary: Vaermina, Daedric Prince of Nightmares, decides to mess around with Eriah's dreams and cooks up one Oblivion of a nightmare. One-shot. Takes place before Fron Zii.


Vaermina gazed into Nirn from her realm of Quagmire. The Daedric Prince of Nightmares was bored and decided to pick out a victim in which to play. Her scrying revealed the Dragonborn asleep in Breezehome. "Well, well, well. It's the Dragonborn, Akatosh's 'precious' child. She'd make a perfect target but is the risk worth the reward?" she mused. Vaermina was well aware of the vested interest Akatosh had in this mortal woman, seeing as he created her, but surely he wouldn't interfere with the Daedric Prince seeking to to alleviate her boredom. The Dragonborn wasn't unknown to her, either. She had been tormenting Dawnstar for quite some time when the Dragonborn and a traitorous Dunmer who served Mara managed to end her influence over the dreams of the people. Vaermina had tempted the Dragonborn into killing the Dunmer by saying he would turn on her, offering the Skull of Corruption as a reward, but it seemed what she heard from Princes like Clavicus Vile and Hermaeus Mora were true: the Dragonborn simply did not tolerate the Daedric Princes, though she usually kept her hate focused on the aforementioned Mora and begrudgingly accepted Princes like Meridia, Azura, Vile, Sanguine, and Sheogorath as not so bad.

Deciding to go with the Dragonborn as her next victim, Vaermina went over to a book dedicated to the mortal's hopes and fears and started looking for a good base in which to weave her nightmare. "Let's see here. How shall I punish you for defying me?" the Prince mused. She paused on a page and read it to herself. "Oh...you fear Molag Bal of us all? I can understand. The fool does love his women and his methods of turning them into pure-blood vampires is rather sickening to mortal sensitivities. A maiden such as yourself, who slays dragons and has stopped many evils, is right to fear the so-called King of Rape. Perhaps a nightmare where he is taking you would be a fitting punishment. But I feel it would be unwise to do so. If Bal caught wind of me using his image in a nightmare, he would be most displeased and I don't have patience for his antics. He has no interest in either the Dragonborn or calling down the potential wrath of Akatosh, as if such a thing were possible. Wrath wasn't why the dragon god interfered with Dagon during the Crisis. Rather, it was the very Prophecy of the Last Dragonborn that compelled him to act against his own nature of passivity." she mused. She flipped through some more pages before finding another of interest.

"This is interesting. You're unable to conceive but you still hold the inherent fears that any mother would in regards to the unborn. There's also your fears in regards to your fellow soldiers...as well as the man you love but shy away from admitting your feelings to. Should the war take anyone you cherish, you would certainly break. Perhaps a combination of the two? Better yet, one flowing into the next? Either would make you feel powerless, since you're like any dragon who seeks to be known as the strongest. Powerlessness would be a good thing to weave my creation around. How you manage to retain your mortal identity despite the soul you have is something worth my intrigue for some other time. Now that I have what I need...shall we begin?" Vaermina said before she began to laugh loudly as she started weaving the dream together.

 _Eriah looked around. She found herself in the plains around Whiterun. It was dark. For some reason, the moons were not in the sky despite the fact that at this point in time, Masser should be full with Secunda not far behind. Even the stars were gone. Despite that, there was an eerie glow on the land, enough that she could make out Whiterun's skyline. Swallowing hard, the Dragonborn started to walk. Something didn't seem right about any of this. Was this Tamriel...or did she somehow stumble into Coldharbour, the plane of Oblivion lorded over by Molag Bal and was said to resemble a twisted version of Tamriel? Eriah couldn't be sure. Nothing felt right and she thought she had fallen asleep in Breezehome. After her dealings with Molag Bal in Markarth, a source of great regret, she didn't think the Daedric Prince of Enslavement and Domination had any continued interest in her. Molag Bal just played her like a pawn to get back at Boethiah and offered his Mace as a reward...for something he forced her to do in exchange for her freedom._

 _Eriah was nearing a giant's camp when suddenly fire sprung to life out of nowhere and she found herself staring at a battlefield. Being no stranger to such things, the Dragonborn nonetheless felt her blood turn to ice as she saw the bodies of her fellow Stormcloaks and bodies from the Imperial Legion. Even worse, she saw the bodies of her friends and various acquaintances she had made on her travels among them. This wasn't a battlefield. It was the site of a massacre. A flash caught her attention and she let out a strangled cry when she saw the bodies of Paarthurnax and Odahviing. She was running towards them when their bodies started to burn. "NO!" she cried as their souls started to be absorbed into her, leaving their remains skeletons like all dragons who fell to her hammer. Reeling back, Eriah slipped and landed on her back. Groaning, she turned over and pushed herself to her hands and knees. That's when she felt something sticky and pulled her hand up to look at it. It was covered in blood and she looked down at the ground. It was running red with blood, causing the Dragonborn to scramble to her feet. She almost felt sick._

 _"What in Oblivion is going on!?" she shouted into the night. She staggered backwards, trying to figure how what was happening to her. "Whose child are you carrying?" came the last voice she expected to hear. Eriah whirled around to see Ulfric Stormcloak standing among the dead, a bloody sword in his hand. The Dragonborn, who normally would've felt relief at seeing him, could only stare in confusion at his question. Child? She was carrying no child. She was unable to have children. "What...are you talking about?" she asked instead. Ulfric didn't answer, instead pointing at her abdomen with his blade. Eriah looked down and saw the unmistakable swell of her belly. "Impossible..." she breathed, her hands placing themselves on her stomach as she stared. Ignoring Ulfric, her eyes gazed wildly up at the skies. "This can't be happening. What's going on?" she said, before falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around her swollen body. She was somehow, inexplicably pregnant. Judging from her size, she had to be close to full term. Her thoughts were cut off when Ulfric addressed her again, slowly closing the distance between them. "Answer my question, Dragonborn...whose child do you carry?" he asked. Eriah's brown eyes flew over at him, her breathing coming in short bursts as sheer terror started to fill her. His voice, which always soothed her whenever she expressed frustration or anger, was colder than ice with a cruel edge to it._

 _"I don't know...This shouldn't be even possible for me. I can't bear children of my own, I swear!" she protested, even though she couldn't for the life of her figure out why she had to defend herself in this way. Here she was, somehow with child, staring down her friend and commander who seemed blind to the carnage around them. Why was he so focused on her womb? Was any of this even real or was she at the mercy of some sadistic force? Eriah gasped as Ulfric took her by the throat, his sword's tip resting on the ground. "The Dragonborn is meant to carry the child of Skyrim's true High King. Only then will the future of our homeland be secured. Tell me who it was who fathered your child and I will see a swift end to him for taking what is rightfully mine." he said. Eriah's hands closed on his wrist as she tried to get him off. "What are you saying!? This isn't like you!" she cried out, as fear for herself was supplanted by fear for the child she somehow carried. "You were promised to me, Dragonborn. Once the war was won, you were to become my wife and give me an heir. Instead, I find you here carrying another man's child. So who was it?" the Jarl asked again, tightening his grip. Eriah couldn't even summon thoughts coherent enough to Shout. Her confusion, fear, and desperation were all vying for supremacy in her mind. What on the Divines' green earth was he talking about? She was promised to no one. Even though she couldn't figure out how or why she was carrying a child within her, it was still an innocent life and she had to protect it as per her oath before her patron gods Akatosh, Talos, and Mara. Even if it meant turning on the man she secretly loved._

 _"Fine. If you will not tell me, then perhaps I should cut it out myself as a lesson to whoever he is that no one can have my woman." Ulfric said. Eriah couldn't fight him off and found herself flat on her back, struggling to get his hand off her throat. His grip was so tight that she was close to passing out as it was. "No...stop...don't kill it. You wouldn't harm an innocent child!" she rasped, tears flowing from her eyes as she saw him set his sword down and produce a dagger. Her attempts to fight him off suddenly doubled in ferocity, leading to her air getting cut off as the Bear tightened his grip and straddled her. It left her abdomen completely unprotected and she started to scream at him not to do it. She watched the dagger rise as several lightning bolts lit up the sky, throwing shadows over Ulfric's face, but her distress was such that she didn't notice the shift in his features that revealed Vaermina's sadistic smile. The dagger came down but Eriah suddenly woke up just as it pierced her._

With a scream, the Dragonborn shot up in bed and Shouted the first word of Ice Breath. It hit the wall and ice formed on it. "What happened!?" came Lydia's voice. Her housecarl ran into her room with a lit candle to see her thane clutching the blanket to her chest looking positively terrified. Eriah dropped the blanket to run her hands over her stomach. It was flat, with no evidence of a child or stab wound to be seen. Relief and residual terror caused her walls to collapse and she started sobbing. She buried her face in her blanket, bringing her knees to her chest. Lydia went to her thane's side and started to soothingly rub her back. She deduced that the Dragonborn must've had one hell of a nightmare or something of that nature because it wasn't often she had seen Eriah cry. She was one of the most courageous, self-assured women Lydia knew so whatever it was she had seen in her dreams, it must've been downright terrifying. Eriah soon looked up at her housecarl and reached out, her companion taking her hands. "Talos..." she rasped before her voice failed again. Lydia nodded, stood up, and went over to the chair where Eriah's cloak was. Taking it and draping it around her thane's shoulders, she helped Eriah to her feet and they left the house. It had been obvious where Eriah needed to go.

It was still very dark out. It had to be about three in the morning. Lydia helped Eriah through the streets until they came to the Gildergreen and crossed the small bridge across the stream that flowed through Whiterun. Standing proud and tall was the statue of Talos, the hero-god who was so beloved by the Nords of Skyrim. Eriah pulled from her housecarl and knelt down, grasping the ledge where the statue stood. She leaned her head to the cool stone and soon, she was muttering fast and low in Dovahzul. Lydia stood back, pulling her shawl closed, as she looked up at the hero-god's statue. The Dragonborn was a devout worshiper of Talos and often credited her courage to him. She also claimed him, in addition to Akatosh and Mara, as one of her patron gods. It was quite easy to figure out why, after such a terrible nightmare, that Eriah would want to come before him. Lydia couldn't understand the dragons' tongue but she wagered a guess that perhaps the Dragonborn was seeking Talos's divine influence to chase away the last vestiges of terror that gripped her heart. Her choice of praying in Dovahzul was probably due to her identifying more with the dragons day by day and the fact Talos himself had been Dragonborn.

Lydia had to wonder if Vaermina was involved. She was the Daedric Prince of Nightmares and some of the worst of such nightmares were accredited to her influence. Not all bad dreams had the mark of Vaermina's handiwork but given the state her thane was in, it seemed very likely she was responsible. She watched as Eriah collapsed to the ground in a bow before the statue, still praying fervently. Lydia looked around as she waited and when she looked back at the Dragonborn, she thought she saw something. Whether it was a trick of the torches or her own tiredness from being roused from sleep all of a sudden, the young housecarl could've sworn she saw a specter of Talos himself kneeling at Eriah's side, setting a hand on her back lovingly like a father trying to ease his child's fears. Shaking her head, the woman looked again and there was nothing there.

After a couple more moments, Eriah sat up and looked up towards the statue's face. She ran an arm over her forehead before clearing her eyes. She heard Lydia approach and kneel down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Are you able to stand?" she asked. "I...think so." Eriah replied before the two women got to their feet. "What happened?" her housecarl asked. "Nightmare. Probably the worst one I've had in my life and I've had a few over the years. Nightmares about the Falmer, mainly. This was even worse than that." Eriah explained as she let Lydia turn them back towards Breezehome. "Do you...want to talk about it. Or shouldn't we since it caused you such distress, my thane?" Lydia asked as they walked the quiet streets. "I don't think that would be wise. If Vaermina was behind this, I'd rather not give her another opening. I should've figured she wouldn't let my work and defiance of her in Dawnstar go unpunished. Maybe I'll be able to tell it someday. I doubt I'll forget this." the Dragonborn replied. They reached the house and went inside. Lydia helped her up the stairs, as Eriah felt physically drained from the mental ordeal she had gone through. When she was tucked into bed, her companion knelt down. "Do you want me to stay here until you go to sleep again?" she asked.

"Please...I'm really afraid right now." said the Dragonborn in a small, broken voice with merely the shadow of fear still present. Lydia went and pulled the chair over and sat down. "If it helps ease your mind, I could've sworn I saw Talos at your side when we were at the statue, Eriah. I think...I think he heard your prayers and decided to descend from Aetherius to be by your side." she ventured. Eriah blinked for a moment before a small smile crossed her lips. It was really late at night and both women were pretty certain it was just Lydia's sleep-deprived mind making her think she saw the Ascended One. Still, the thought of the hero-god coming to her aid was a comfort all the same. She gave a shuddering sigh as she curled up under the blanket and eventually, her eyes slowly closed as sleep claimed her once more.

Lydia waited for a few minutes longer before she brushed Eriah's hair aside and standing up to head back to her own room. She paused at the wall where Eriah had Shouted and sighed. It was going to be a puddle by morning and with the floor being made of wood, she hoped it didn't rot from the amount of ice the Dragonborn had Shouted with just one Word. Still, better it was Ice Breath than Fire Breath. It would've been very bad for Whiterun as a whole if Eriah had set her house on fire in her terror. Looking back to see that her thane was calm and asleep still, Lydia smiled before closing the door and walking to her room, blowing out the candle as she went. As for the Dragonborn, she slept soundly as a good dream came to supplant the last threads of fear in her mind and she wasn't awoken again until dawn's first light.


End file.
